In a tolerably well-ordered commonwealth the matter would now
have been politically at an end, and the military and the tribunals
would have undertaken the rest. But in Rome matters had come
to such a pitch, that the government was not even in a position
to keep a couple of noblemen of note in safe custody. The slaves
and freedmen of Lentulus and of the others arrested were stirring;
plans, it was alleged, were contrived to liberate them by force
from the private houses in which they were detained; there was no lack--
thanks to the anarchist doings of recent years--of ringleaders
in Rome who contracted at a certain rate for riots and deeds
of violence; Catilina, in fine, was informed of what had occurred,
and was near enough to attempt a coup de main with his bands.

How much of these rumours was true, we cannot tell; but there was ground
for apprehension, because, agreeably to the constitution, neither troops
nor even a respectable police force were at the command of the government
in the capital, and it was in reality left at the mercy of every gang
of banditti. The idea was suggested of precluding all possible
attempts at liberation by the immediate execution of the prisoners.
Constitutionally, this was not possible. According to the ancient
and sacred right of appeal, a sentence of death could only be
pronounced against the Roman burgess by the whole body of burgesses,
and not by any other authority; and, as the courts formed by the body
of burgesses had themselves become antiquated, a capital sentence
was no longer pronounced at all.